


Cheval et Chevalier

by hopelesslybenaddicted



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 16:53:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10926033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelesslybenaddicted/pseuds/hopelesslybenaddicted
Summary: Professor de Lorraine is teaching his fourth-year class how to produce a patronus, and Professor d'Orléans drops in to observe for a bit. Hogwarts monchevy fluff ensues.





	Cheval et Chevalier

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to IamJohnLocked4life for the amazing beta and encouragement. Love you!

“Expecto patronum!” Chevalier shouted with a flourish, pointing his wand over the heads of his eager fourth-year class. The day had arrived: it was time to learn the patronus charm, and although many of them had seen this particular form of magic before, they watched wide-eyed as their professor’s playful ermine patronus frolicked through the air, stopping occasionally to stand on its back legs and observe them all from on high. Delighted gasps and laughter filled the room, until Chevalier called his patronus back to him, allowing it to stand upright in his hand as he addressed the class. With a class full of eager faces turned toward him, the professor began his lesson.

“A patronus,” he explained, “is a useful bit of defensive magic, since it can be used for protection against dementors. However, a patronus can also be useful for sending messages, or even for keeping a lookout. Plus… they just look _really_ cool, eh?” He gave the class a tiny wink before continuing. “Each patronus is unique to the magical human that conjures it. But a corporeal patronus is a complicated thing to produce. Don’t be discouraged if you manage nothing more than a misty vapor today.” Some students exchanged disappointed glances; they were all anxious to know what forms their patronuses would take.

“Well!” he said, clapping his hands together and giving the class an encouraging smile. “Let’s get started!” As he described the steps and incantation necessary to produce a patronus, the classroom door opened quietly and Philippe let himself in. Chevalier glanced over and gave Philippe a smile and a nod without pausing in his demonstration to the students. Philippe returned his smile and then made his way to the back of the classroom to watch the lesson. Chevy had told him that the fourth-years would be starting their attempts at patronuses, and though it might seem cliché, the patronus was one of Philippe’s favorite charms. The opportunity to watch his Chevalier interact with the students was a welcome bonus -- he had such an easy way with them, and he clearly enjoyed being the center of their attention, especially on such an exciting day. It was no wonder Chevy had chosen to be a DADA professor; they got to teach all the flashy, exciting magic. Not like Philippe’s subject. Ancient Runes were far less showy, and they required a great deal of patience and careful thought. Or, as Chevalier had put it last night, dramatically draping himself across a chaise longue in an attempt to wrest Philippe’s attention from his translation of a difficult text, “they’re so _boring_!”

The corner of Philippe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile at the memory. If there was one word that he couldn’t use to describe his Chevy, it was ‘boring.’ His students were completely enthralled as they began to practice the spell in pairs. Every few minutes, one would cry out, “Professor de Lorraine! I’ve got it!” only to then groan in disappointment when the mist dissipated before forming an intelligible shape. But in spite of their lack of success, the professor cheered them on, encouraging them to keep trying. And try they did, just as eager to please him as they were to succeed with the spell.

After several minutes of circulating through the room to assist individual students, Chevalier made his way to where Philippe was standing at the back of the class.

“Hello, my mignonnette. I’m happy to see you. Did you come in search of some teaching tips?”

“Sorry, but no. I’m afraid your methods would be simply worthless in an Ancient Runes classroom,” Philippe replied drily, avoiding eye contact.

Chevalier huffed in mock protest and stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. Philippe grinned in spite of himself, and Chevalier laughed in triumph.

“Well, my methods seem to be working alright in _my_ classroom,” Chevalier said, looking around at the fourth-years, who were all concentrating on performing the new spell correctly.

“You’re right, of course. They’re doing very well. I’d not be surprised to see them produce a few corporeal ones soon. But you know,” Philippe lowered his voice, running his thumb along Chevalier’s jawline and holding his gaze, “they’ve got an excellent teacher.” Chevalier bit his bottom lip and shivered in response to the unexpected praise.

One of the students wolf-whistled loudly, and both professors were startled to realize that all of the fourth-years had stopped practicing and were instead watching them, several chuckling to themselves, and a few looking embarrassed to have caught their teachers in this rather intimate display.

Philippe blushed and dropped his hand to his side, but Chevalier simply whirled around to face them, clapped his hands together, and scolded his class playfully. “Now, how do you expect to learn anything if you’re watching _me_?” he asked, to which there was a short outburst of laughter. “Come on, you know what I meant. Back to it! And if you’re good, Professor d’Orléans might have a little treat to show you at the end of class.”

The students turned back to their partners and took up their practice again, speculating amongst themselves about what surprise the Ancient Runes professor might have for them. The relationship between Professor de Lorraine and Professor d’Orléans was no secret, but as Chevalier was the head of Slytherin house and Philippe the head of Gryffindor, it was often the subject of gossip among the students. Of course, their frequent intense spats also contributed to the chatter. Chevalier was notoriously jealous, and Philippe extraordinarily stubborn. Once, when Philippe had spent a little too much time (in Chevalier’s opinion) chatting with the handsome new flying instructor, Chevalier had “accidentally” caused a dark gray cloud to follow Philippe everywhere he went, sending a torrential downpour of rain onto Philippe’s head. Philippe had refused to acknowledge his new personal rainstorm except to conjure a rather exquisite umbrella to float along above him as he carried on about his day, and eventually Chevalier had relented and called off the cloud. They were mad, perhaps, but they were mad together.

As the hour drew to a close, none of the students had managed to produce anything more than a silvery mist, but Chevalier seemed pleased as he called for their attention. “Well done today, everyone! The patronus is a complicated spell, but one that I’m confident you’ll all master eventually. Keep practicing! And as a treat for all of your efforts today, I wonder if Professor d’Orléans would agree to show us his patronus?” With an excited murmur, they turned to face Philippe, who was still standing at the back of the class. He rolled his eyes and sighed, pretending to be put-out by the request, then withdrew his wand from his robe and pointed it toward the front of the room. He closed his eyes, thought of the sleepy kiss Chevalier had given him upon awakening that morning, smiled to himself, then opened his eyes again.

“Expecto patronum,” he said, and a magnificent silver-white stallion burst from the tip of his wand, soaring over the students’ heads. It landed silently at the front of the classroom, where it stood calmly at Chevalier’s side and looked around at the fascinated fourth-years. Just then, the bell rang to end class, and as Chevy dismissed them with a reminder to continue practicing, Philippe wove his way through the dispersing class to reach the front of the room. When the last student had left, Chevalier flicked his wand at the door, which closed with a muffled thump.

Philippe took Chevalier’s face in his hands and kissed him, and although his eyes were closed, he could sense his patronus growing brighter as his heart felt like it would burst with the strength of his love for this man. This man, this ridiculous, amazing, magical, gorgeous man, actually loved him. Sometimes he still had trouble believing it. He pulled back and looked at Chevalier, who was smirking playfully.

“Well, _mon étoile_! What on earth has got into you today?”

“Nothing,” said Philippe. “Everything. I love you. You’re mad and wonderful and _amazing_.”

“Ah, don’t go getting all sentimental,” said Chevy, but he grinned, pleased at the display of sincere affection from his Philippe. “Thank you for conjuring your patronus for the class, by the way. It really _is_ impressive. However, mine is far more unique, wouldn’t you say?” To prove his point, he conjured his ermine patronus again. The little weasel-like creature bounded in a circle around the surface of the desk several times, then stood up on its hind legs and observed Philippe’s patronus with some curiosity. The horse was still standing quite still, doing its best to look regal and to ignore the overly energetic ermine.

“Unique? Yes, I guess that’s one word for it...” said Philippe, watching the little patronus with amusement. Chevy’s face suddenly broke into a mischievous grin, and he flicked his wand toward Philippe’s patronus. The ermine leapt off the desk and onto the horse’s back, settling at the withers and standing again on its back legs. The horse took a few nervous steps, then began to prance around the edge of the classroom in an attempt to shake the unwelcome passenger.

“Cut it out,” Philippe said in an attempt to sound disapproving, but his smile gave him away.

“Apologies,” Chevalier said. “I thought you might like it if I rode you…” he added, raising his eyebrows.

Philippe’s eyes widened in shock, and he let out a bark of laughter. His Chevalier never failed to surprise him. They both allowed their patronuses to dissipate, then Philippe wrapped his arms low around Chevy’s back, pulled him closer until they were pressed together, and kissed him again, deeply this time.

“You know,” he said several minutes later, breaking the kiss and panting slightly, his voice almost a moan in Chevalier’s ear, “I might, in fact, like that very much.”


End file.
